


Chasing Stars

by danqueray



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Break Up, M/M, uni!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 18:13:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8906803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danqueray/pseuds/danqueray
Summary: In which Phil Lester befriends an Astrophysicist, Dan Howell. Things blossom into something quite unexpected, and he doesn’t think he can ever forget his first love.





	

Monday mornings begin with a lecture, in which Phil’s eyes never seem to fail to trail to the crevices in the paper-white ceiling and the coffee stain on the teal carpet next to his battered desk. He sometimes wonders if he was the one who spilled the coffee after sipping his fourth one that day, but soon decides he couldn’t have as he noticed it as soon as he sat down. He’s not quite sure what his lecturer says each lesson, and he’s almost certain he’s falling behind but it’s all insignificant anyway. Phil loves plants, and he guesses if there were a course on how to be a professional gardener then maybe he wouldn’t be sitting on an uncomfortable chair in a stuffy lecturing hall with unwritten assignments sprawled on his desk at home, day after day.

As soon as lunch rolls around Phil’s quick to his feet, notes shoved in his bag baring crinkles and tares and his pens are jammed in his pencil case with the caps on the ends, chewed and destroyed. It’s not to say Phil has friends, in some ways he’s never been so alone, but he guesses it’s alright, especially when he can admire the flowers by the benches. He opts for a salad, not quite what he’d generally buy but it’s cheaper than a sandwich and he only has three pounds after the surprisingly expensive train fare that morning. The lettuce is slightly soggy and the tomatoes are soft and he’s not sure if he can stomach another black olive so he places the lid back on and puts it in the bin, waving a small goodbye as he does so. His eyes linger on a group laughing on the grass, eyes crinkled and shining and lips parted in a wide smile. He notices one of the men, Dan Howell. He’s learned he’s obnoxious and certainly not one to acknowledge after he knocked his textbook on the floor with a sea of notes littering the carpet and all he could say was “ugh, Biology.” Phil wishes he’d have fought back, but instead he sighed and bent down, picking up his now out-of-order notes and the rather expensive textbook.

It’s two-thirty when he’s finally done with all of his lectures and seminars for the day, and he isn’t too sure if he can spend another second listening to a professor drone on about the structure of a plant cell - he’s certain that by the time his head hits the cushion on his battered sofa his eyes will snap shut and he’ll drift off into a sleep. He does, and wakes up when the moon peaks behind the clouds blanketing the sky and the stars begin to shine past the grey barrier. Phil envies Dan Howell. It’s not to say his thoughts purposely drifted to the man with an equally obnoxious laugh and voice, but somehow they did. He has friends, something that completely baffles Phil because why would anyone purposely stand near a man like him, let alone talk to him? Phil decides his friends must be as horrible as he is, and makes his way to his kitchen without another thought on the matter. The bread is mouldy and it seems as if the universe can’t seem to give Phil any luck today, but then again he never has really been a lucky person. He’s always dreamt of lottery wins and prizes for investigations, and even went as far as submitting a draft for a novel to a publisher (Phil thinks he should’ve taken English rather than Biology, and maybe then he’d have a sort of credibility to his name), but every opportunity has been thrown back in his face with a sugar coated no, tasting of the sourest lemons and the beer he poured down the drain last weekend. He decides he has no money to spare on a pizza and a takeaway would certainly be out of the question, so settles on a trip with freezing hands shoved in woollen pockets, down to the local Tesco to find something.

“Lester, right?” Phil’s eyes grow wide as he turns around, Dan Howell with a two-pound-twenty ready meal firmly in his grasp. Phil nods, words failing him and why is Dan Howell talking to him? “Biology eh? I don’t see the appeal, why learn about plants when you can learn about the universe?” He scoffs, rolls his eyes as Phil shakes his head, and curls his lips into a smirk.

“It’s interesting.” Phil can’t help but feel he’s lying, because the lectures are boring and all he really wants to learn about is the different types of flowers and how beautiful they are.

“Sure.” Phil turns around and makes his way to the chilled section, pulling out a lasagna with a yellow sticker that says reduced in bold letters. “You know what? I should call you flower boy.Flower boy Lester” It’s almost mocking, the way his fingers lambent over the packaging and dance to the blocks of cheese sat beside. It’s like his fingers and lips tell the tale his mouth is afraid to announce and Phil’s left wondering if Dan Howell really is as bad as he seems.

“Flowers are nice.” Phil tries to spit, although his voice is too soft and laced heavily with sleep and all he can think about right now is food and the impending deadline of his essay.

(It’s due next week although he hasn’t started it, and he doubts he will until the weekend.)

“And boring.” The smirk never falters and he scoffs, and it prompts Phil to grab a chocolate bar and maybe if he were mean enough he’d have to audacity to throw it at Dan’s face, but for now it’s placed firmly in his basket along with the lasagna and packet of crisps he picked up prior.   
“I’ll see you around then flower boy, eh?” Phil nods, sighing at the apparent new nickname and makes his way quickly to the till without any further distractions.

-

Phil isn’t sure what prompted him to skip the coffee this morning, but his eyelids are heavy and his voice is hoarse and Dan Howell is the only thing on his mind. He’s sure he can see him staring out of the corner of his eye, followed by hushed whispers as he picks at another salad and he thinks he should really stop ordering from the café.

“You should join us.” A man, not any older or younger than he, walks up to him with a smile. It’s friendly and inviting and Phil learns his name is PJ. He studies astrophysics and he’s certainly less obnoxious than Dan, and seems to take a genuine interest in Phil’s love for plants. There’s Chris, who Phil gathers does theatre, with a sarcastic smirk and hands that make every gesture possible as he talks. Louise’s smile is bright with hair tinted the softest rose and lipstick to match, and Phil isn’t quite sure how Dan managed friends as lovely as these.   
“We’re going out tonight, you want to join us?” PJ smiles, taking the last bite of his sandwich before scrunching the foil into a ball and throws it at Dan’s head.

“Sounds great! Where should I meet you?” It comes out rushed and leaves Phil red faced when they suggest the seemingly dodgy pub down the road, but Phil says he’ll be there at six-pm sharp a second before the bell rings for the end of lunch.

It takes him an hour to finish debating what to wear, and in hindsight he should’ve asked beforehand but he quickly settles on a graphic tee and his usual black jeans. He decides a shirt is certainly too formal, and that he’d rather wear anything but shorts - besides the weather isn’t exactly forgiving - so a t-shirt and a coat will have to suffice. The walk is short, and leaves Phil’s cheeks tainted crimson and fingers numb in his pockets and for once he’s glad his coat can withstand the English weather.

“Phil! My man! How’s things?” Chris jumps up from a booth in the corner.

“I’m fine thanks, you?” He smiles as Chris rolls his eyes, taking of his own coat before helping Phil with his.

“Thank fuck the end is nigh. I don’t think I can sit in anymore fucking lectures about drama, it’s drama for fuck sake it’s all acting and shit anyway!” Phil gathers that with Chris there will never be a dull moment, and he can’t say he doesn’t enjoy his company in the slightest. It doesn’t take long for PJ to walk in, followed by Louise and Dan with the scowl Phil has come to know plastered on his face.

“I need a fucking drink.” Dan throws his coat on the ever-growing pile and storms to the bar, ordering something strong and that’ll give him “a fucking headache tomorrow”.

“What’s gotten into our little friend then Danny?” Chris chews the end of his straw as Dan rolls his eyes and lets a huff past his tongue.

“He told me he was tired and didn’t want to come.” Louise runs her fingers through her hair, pink curls tumbling down and sitting just past her shoulders.

A few drinks in and Dan seems to have loosened up. It’s the first time Phil’s actually seen him smile and soon enough his arm’s around Chris and his head is flopped lazily on his shoulder.

“Didn’t know they were close.” Phil whispers, PJ chuckling in response.

“It’s not really like that, they’ve known each other forever - sort of like brothers.” He nods, taking a chip between his fingers before dipping it into the dish of tomato sauce.

Phil finds it strange; he finds Dan strange. One minute a scowl’s plastered on his lips and he can’t seem to want to leave quick enough, and now his lips are upturned and his face is buried in the crook of Chris’ neck, giggles soft as he takes another sip of beer. The night soon draws to a close; Dan and Chris almost too drunk to walk in a straight line as child-like giggles tumble from their lips. Phil soon finds himself walking next to Dan, walking the drunk man to his flat out of good will and he can’t help his cheeks flush as the brunet mumbles something about how stupid clouds are.

“What number are you?” Phil asks, footsteps falling to a halt as Dan staggers behind him. Dan simply shrugs, stopping beside Phil with expectant eyes; a sigh slipping past Phil’s tongue strewn in silver swirls. He can’t quite remember Dan’s flat number through his pounding head, and decides that perhaps if the opportunity arises again he’ll most definitely go lighter with the cider.  
“You’re going to have to sleep on the couch Dan, is that alright?” He’s not sure why he bothers asking, as the brunet nods a reply and taps his foot, impatient for Phil to unlock the door. He does however open it in no more than ten seconds, holding it open for Dan to stagger past and flop onto the sofa.  
“I’ll get you a blanket and take your shoes and jeans off, you won’t be comfortable otherwise.”  
To Phil’s surprise, Dan’s shoes are kicked off by the coffee table by the time he finds a duvet and a few spare pillows, and soon enough his eyes are fluttered shut and soft snores slip past his parted lips.

-

Phil wakes up to a note by his door, writing barely legible and he can just about distinguish a “thank you” from what appears to be “Dan”. The blanket’s folded with a pillow on top, placed neatly on the arm of the grey sofa and the front door is firmly shut. It’s nine-forty two by the time he realises he has no time for breakfast, due for a seminar in less than ten minutes which prompts a quick change and brush of teeth before he slips out of the door with his hands firmly in his pockets as his breath swirls in almost opaque white before him.

After his seminar Phil definitely regrets taking Biology. It’s too hard and despite it’s innocent appearance he wants nothing more than to tear his hair out as tears flood his face after learning his project has been pushed forward a week. Somehow Dan stays in his mind, the crinkles in his eyes and the way giggles cascaded in honeyed yellows and ambers from his lips as he took a sip of his drink. He finds it hard to focus, the professors words swirling in his mind like the bubbles floating on his hot chocolate; the pale mocha blending with the rich browns. Phil takes nothing away from the hour of sitting in his seat, other than the fact that he cannot concentrate when his mind is painting Dan Howell in every colour that makes Phil want to fall in love - but he doesn’t, _of course_ he doesn’t.

The night passes uneventfully, and Phil can’t quite wait for the week to end. His hand aches and he’s reached his breaking point, essay drafts littered across his desk almost mocking him. Mocking how his eyes flutter shut each time his hand starts to scrawl intangible letters, and how his bed feels far more comfy than his desk chair.

To: Phil  
Hey :)

To: Peej  
Hey :)

To: Phil  
Did that send back or was that you?

To: Peej  
Me dw

To: Phil  
I was wondering if you wanted a break on Friday? We’re all going to that pub and I promise Dan and Chris won’t be so drunk and Dan a dick, want to come?

To: Peej  
Sounds good! Same time?

To: Phil  
Yeah :)

Friday falls flat, and Phil hopes the night will boost his mood as he’s not sure if he can take much more.

“Hi Dan.” Phil tests the waters, the brunet flashing a weak smile before taking a sip of his drink.

“Lester.” Phil’s more than thankful that his nickname seems to be forgotten.

“How are you?” He pretends he doesn’t notice the scowl on his face.

“Good.” It’s blunt and Phil thinks he should drop it, but decides against wallowing in uncomfortable silence waiting for the others to join.

“How is your course going?”

“It’s okay, yours?” Dan’s reluctant to answer, and even more so to consider making conversation. He does however, with a sigh from his lips and a firm grip on his glass.

“A lot of essays but I think I can manage, although I could do with a few drinks.” Phil smiles, not noticing Dan’s cheeks taint a pale rose and eyes diverted.

“That’s good.” He stirs his drink with his straw, the ice against the glass barely audible over the sound of chatter and laughter of others.

“I think I’ll grab a drink, I’ll be back soon.” He doesn’t quite know why he declared it, but he thinks just getting up would be rude, besides the small nod Dan gives in response is certainly enough, and certainly more than he’d ever have gotten before.

Phil decides by the end of the night that Dan and Chris are inseparable, and even when Dan leaves to get a refill, Chris is never far behind. PJ insists nothing’s between them, and starts to wonder why Phil keeps asking, but Phil pins it down to curiosity and leaves it at that. He’s on his fifth cider by the time they decide to stagger home, PJ taking Dan back to his flat as Phil is slightly too drunk to even consider helping Dan stand upright.

“See you on Monday Phil.” PJ waves, smiling widely as his arm’s slung around Dan’s, keeping him from falling over.

“See ya'round.” Phil’s words are barely understandable, almost a string of sounds tumbling from his lips.

It’s four-thirty-seven by the time he falls asleep. His head’s swimming with Dan and his fucking eyes and smile and laugh, and how his lips would feel perfect against his own. How his fingers would feel tracing his spine and feathering his chest, and why can’t he just forget him?  
He doesn’t understand how Dan can do this to him, how he can consume his thoughts and never seem to leave.

-

Three weeks pass since Phil met Dan’s friends. Three weeks and Dan hasn’t left his mind. He’ll get the odd break, where he’ll be too focussed on what sandwich to even consider Dan, and then his eyes will trail to the window and he’ll see something that reminds him of Dan. Sometimes it’s the stars at night, making toast in the early hours of the morning and the moon as the light, and other times it’s when he’s walking down the road and hears a laughter much like his. It’s certainly childish, and Phil’s not sure how much longer he can keep pretending like everything’s okay, because it’s not. Dan’s never been anything but sour towards him, yet his mind conjures up how his skin would look under the moon or hair with flowers braided in. Phil decides to call Dan, tapping his number in with shaky hands and holding his breath until his voice mumbles a hello.

“Hi Dan it’s Phil.” He hopes he can’t hear the waver in his voice.

“Lester?” Dan’s voice is soft, softer than Phil’s ever heard it.

“I was wondering if you wanted to hang out or something.” It comes out rushed, face crimson and he’s thankful Dan can’t see his face.

“Sure, I’m at the park down the road, y'know the one with that huge tree?” He giggles, clearing his throat before asking, “Is there something the matter?”

“No no, nothing at all it’s just-” He pauses, waiting for a word to fill the silence that never comes. “It’s nice seeing you.”

“Bring a jacket it’s quite cold.” Is all he whispers before the call ends, leaving Phil wondering why Dan has changed, and if he’ll stay this way.

Phil can’t shake the sound of Dan’s voice from his thoughts and as soon as he sees Dan’s figure sat by the tree his heart flutters.

“Hi Dan.” He waves, sitting beside him.

“Hi Phil.” He giggles, shuffling closer to close the gap between them. “Why did you want to see me? Truthfully?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know you as well as the others I guess and-”

“I’ve made no real effort. I thought you were like the other Biologists if I’m honest, all stuck up and stupid but then you said to PJ you played Pokémon and I might’ve been too drunk to remember but I swear you did an impression of a Raichu and it was so stupid but hilarious and I tried not to laugh because you were so serious.” Dan chuckles.

He shuffles, sliding off the root of the tree to lay on the grass.

“What are you doing?” Phil asks through a soft giggle, sitting beside Dan as the brunet’s eyes flutter closed.

“Watching the stars; thinking.” He mumbles in reply, barely coherent and words laced with exhaustion.

“About?” Phil knows he shouldn’t push it, after all he isn’t exactly close to Dan; but somehow it all seems different, Dan seems different and perhaps things might change between them.

“You.” Phil’s eyes trail to Dan’s adams apple that moves as he swallows thickly, an almost instantaneous regret.

“Me? Why?” He asks almost too innocently, causing Dan to bolt upright with furrowed brows.

“I’ve treated you like shit and you’re still so nice. I don’t deserve that.”

“You act like I’m not used to it.” Phil laughs dryly, twiddling thumbs and fingers toying at the hem of his shirt.

“Fuck.” He breathes. “I’m sorry Phil, I’m such a dick I-”

“Forget it.”

“No, Phil I’m serious, I want to apologise. Can we maybe start again?”

“Of course.” He pauses, mouth open as he swallows the words at the tip of his tongue. “I’m Phil Lester.” He extends his hand to grasp Dan’s in a firm handshake.

“I’m Dan Howell.” Phil isn’t sure if he’s ever heard Dan giggle as sweet or eyes crinkle as if the stars are shining solely for him.

-

Phil notices the small changes. Now Dan smiles as they pass and if they meet in Tesco he insists on buying Phil his dinner. Phil always declines the offer, but Dan ends up paying for two tubs of spaghetti and Phil joins him that night. Phil sits in the corner, food balanced on the arm of the grey sofa as Dan takes a sip of wine beside him. The T.V’s quiet in the background, small talk and smiles far too loud over the top.

“Why did you choose Biology, truthfully?” Dan asks between mouthfuls.

“It interests me. Why did you pick Astrophysics?”

“The universe is always something I’ve fell in love with, maybe even more so than life itself.”

Phil stays over that night, the couch doing nothing for his aching neck. There’s a bottle of gin on the floor and two empty glasses, each with slices of lemon and laughter written in between the capsules. Their words ring in the glasses, each syllable a new story with an underlying fairytale neither want to admire, and it’s funny that Phil thinks Dan’s pretty, because Dan thinks Phil’s pretty too.

Dan would say the universe has a strange way of working things out, and indeed it does. He comes home a week later with Chris’ lips plastered on his, hot and soothing and burning every crevice of his neck. His fingers are like fire and with each touch he wants to bathe himself in anything to rid the burn. It feels wrong, yet right and as Chris falls asleep beside him with the rose tainted words I love you lingering on his lips, he can’t help but wonder if it really is love.

To: Phil  
Can you meet me in the library?

To: Dan  
Sure :)

Dan shouldn’t have let Chris kiss him, because his eyes are glassy and he can’t even look at him without his stomach churning. Phil arrives, sitting beside Dan with a worried expression as he notices the dark smudges under his eyes and crimson laced within them.

“What’s wrong?” His eyes are soft and pleading and it takes all of Dan not to break down.

“Chris kissed me last night- I thought I liked him but-” He chokes back a sob, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his jumper.

“Oh Dan.” He wraps his arms around him, letting him bury his head in his chest. Phil doesn’t want to admit that it feels right, and Dan’s too scared to wonder whether Phil feels the same.

It takes an hour for Dan to stop crying, and another hour for him to almost forget about Chris. He can’t say he doesn’t love Phil’s smile, or the way is eyes crinkle or tongue peeks between his teeth. He can’t say that his laughter isn’t his favourite sound, or his voice or perhaps they way his words become laced with giggles.

“Text me if you need me okay?” Phil smiles, waving a small goodbye before he opens the library door and heads out. His fingers are numb in his pockets and his heart hurts, because he shouldn’t want to kiss Dan breathless and hold him until he falls asleep; he shouldn’t but he does.

-

It’s been a month, not that Phil’s been counting. If he had been he’d have realised it’s been a month and four days, and Phil finds himself falling for Dan each time they meet. Every day is a flurry of giggles and blushes and Phil wonders how he never saw Dan’s gaze on him before.

“What’s this?” PJ smiles, eyes falling to Dan’s hand firmly grasped by Chris’.

“Dan asked me to be his boyfriend.” Phil can’t help but snap his head up, eyes scanning Dan for any readable expression.

“This is great news!” PJ stands up, pats both Dan and Chris on the back before walking over to the bin to dispose of his sandwich wrap.

“Sit down,” Chris mumbles; Phil can’t say he isn’t listening. “Dan your legs will get tired.” He obliges, sitting opposite Phil with Chris’ head in his lap.

“So Phil how are you?” Dan doesn’t quite know what to say, and perhaps his expression is too obvious as he gives him a weak smile and nods.

“Fine. You?” The words leave a bitter taste on Phil’s lips.

“I’m sorry.” Dan mouths as Chris’ eyes are closed. Phil shakes his head in response, standing up before getting his things and heading inside. It’s childish really, because of course Dan is allowed to love Chris, but that day when Dan’s eyes were brimming with tears and cheeks stained rose all but consume his thoughts and suffocate him until he can no longer breathe. How can Dan not see it? How can Dan not see how utterly in love Phil is with him? He sighs, wiping away a stray tear before pushing the doors out to the front gate.

His phone rings by the time he reaches his flat. It’s cold and dark and he always hates the Winter, and how it’s unforgiving even in the best of times.

“Phil?” Dan’s voice is small and it kills him.

“Are you alright?” He doesn’t know why he bothers asking.

“I’m sorry, I’ve fucked up.” Phil could quite agree, but decides on humming a response echoing a sigh from Dan.

-

It kills Phil, because Dan hasn’t spoken to him since that night and now he’s waiting in the dark for him to arrive. He could walk away, pretend he’s fine and move on but how could he? Because he loves Dan and Dan’s too blind to see it.

“Phil.” He jogs up beside him, breathless and panting before he regains his composure.

“Why did you want to see me?” Phil spits, and he doesn’t mean for it to come out bitter but his mind’s racing and all he wants to do is kiss him until they both see the stars and every flower there ever was.

“I’m sorry and I feel like shit; I’m such an arse.”

“You are.” Dan sighs, laying next to Phil on the grass.

“Dan!” Phil giggles, pushing the brunet lightly with an open palm and he’s not quite sure if he could ever be mad at Dan. “Stop staring!” It’s hushed and Phil finds himself lost in galaxies and blackholes of amber and chocolate.

“Sorry, you’re just-” He pauses, eyes cast to the floor as a blush paints his cheeks rose. “You’re just really pretty to look at.”

“Me?” They both sit up. It’s a mixture of disbelief and joy, and soon Phil’s fingers are feathered under Dan’s chin to force a shy smile and diverted eyes to face him.

“I don’t think there’s anyone else here except you.” He smiles, placing his hand on Phil’s against the soft grass.

“I’m really not, you’re lying.”

“I really like you Phil.”

“I really like you too Dan.”

“Can I perhaps kiss you?” Dan’s voice falters, eyes fluttering closed as Phil nods and leans in. Chapped lips brush as fingers thread hair, and neither can hold back a smile as they pull away.

“What about Chris?” It’s the question that Dan fears, lingering on his lips before Phil asks.

“I don’t like him,” His voice falters as his eyes sink to his hands, knotted in his lap.

“But aren’t you two are together?”

“I thought- I thought it was more than that. I thought I liked him and when I asked him he seemed so elated and truth be told so did I. Then I saw you and how hurt you looked and I tried to ignore it Phil I really did, but I can’t pretend to like him when really I like you.” Dan thinks he’s said too much, and Phil not enough as the words don’t quite sit right in his ears because how could Dan not realise?

“Oh Dan.” Phil places his hand on his, squeezing lightly before a sigh escapes his lips. “You’ve really fucked up haven’t you?” It’s a chuckle, light and almost a whisper. “We’ll fix it though, together.”

“Can we? The last thing I want to do is hurt anyone. Chris is my best friend and when he kissed me I thought it felt right, but he was too drunk to know what he was doing and I wasn’t drunk enough to go with it; I just thought of you.”

“Does he like you?” Phil asks, cautious and slow before Dan nods. “We can fix this, I promise.”

Phil sees Dan’s eyes close as a shooting star passes above their heads.

-

“Have you broken up with him yet?” Phil asks as they sit on a bench. Dan shakes his head, a sigh strewn from his lips curled in regret.

“I don’t want to hurt him.” His voice falters, soft and weak until he can barely speak.

“Dan you need to, it’s not fair on him.”

“I know but I can’t let our friendship go.” He rests his chin on the palm of his hand.

“It’s better to do it now than later, when he loves you and you can’t do anything but destroy all you’ve made.” And Dan knows Phil’s right, and he knows that each night he lies awake and wishes to hold him until the sun peaks above the clouds in strings of amber and coral.

“How do I say it? Do I tell him there’s nothing there?” Phil nods, taking Dan’s hand in his reassuringly.

“You’ll be fine Dan I promise.”

Phil wakes up that night to his phone buzzing, Dan in a flurry of tears and how Chris said he’ll never talk to him again. Phil decides to slip on a jacket and slippers and it’s less than ten minutes before he knocks on his door.

“I feel like shit.” Dan mumbles against Phil’s shirt, tears staining the grey tee but neither care, all that matters is Phil’s arms are wrapped around him.

“I’ll make you a tea.” Phil stands up, draping a blanket over the brunet before making his way to the kitchen. He comes back with two teas in his hands and a packet of biscuits under his arm before sitting beside Dan.

“Thank you.” He mumbles through a sniffle, fingers gripping the soft blanket. Dan falls asleep that night with his head buried in the crook of Phil’s neck, wearing a University hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. Phil feels bad, because Dan’s vulnerable yet he’s so in love with him that he couldn’t care less if his breath tickles his neck or his arms wrap around his waist that little tighter as dreams flicker behind his eyes, or the fact that every mumble is of his name in honeyed nothings, each followed by a soft smile.

Phil wakes up to Dan’s lips on his.

“Good morning.” He grins, eyes sleep soft and fingers light over his cheek.

“Morning.” Phil smiles back, letting his fingers run through Dan’s chestnut hair - curled and utterly perfect.

“Sorry if I wasn’t too comfy.” Dan mumbles as he lets his head rest on Phil’s chest.

“Don’t apologise.” Phil can’t help but place a kiss on top of his head, pushing his fringe back to place another on his forehead before lacing their fingers together. Phil thinks they spend another hour on the sofa, letting their eyes flutter shut, lips barely reaching in soft kisses as fingers trace stomachs and chests and running through morning curls.

“Phil.” Dan whispers, a smile upturning his lips as he does so. “I’m hungry.”

“Come on then,” He places a final kiss on Dan’s forehead before sitting up, actions mirrored by Dan who ends up between his legs. “What would you like?”

“Whatever, we can go out if you want? My treat.” Phil hums a response, letting his lips curl into a smile as he presses them against Dan’s cheek.

“That sounds wonderful.”

-

Dan leads Phil to a small café, brick walls lined with fairy lights and watercolour prints, and in some ways it’s so unapologetically Dan.

“This is really nice.” Phil smiles, placing his hand over Dan’s atop the wooden table.

“I wish it wasn’t raining.” The brunet sighs, resting his head on Phil’s shoulder.

“Helps the flowers grow.” Dan giggles, throwing his head back and Phil doesn’t think he’s seen anything quite this beautiful.

“You’re right, and without flowers how would you function?”

“Not very well.”

Phil thinks Dan’s a flower, not yet bloomed but just enough to see the beauty that it’ll withhold.

“Should we order? They do a mean pancake stack if I’m honest.” Dan’s eyes are soft on Phil’s, making his heart flutter and lips curl into a slight smile.

“Sounds great, do you want a drink?”

“A tea sounds great, I can order if you’d like?” Phil nods, asking for a white tea with one sugar before Dan gets up to order. He’d be lying if he were to say his eyes didn’t falter to the way Dan’s hips swayed, or the way his back dips in the most perfect way.

“Done.” He pokes his tongue out as he sits down, eyes childlike and all Phil wants to do is hold him tight.

“Thank you, I feel spoiled today.” Phil giggles, letting Dan’s head rest on his shoulder.

“Why’s that?”

“A very pretty boy is taking me out for breakfast, can’t say that’s a common occurrence.”

“Can it be?” Dan presses a kiss to Phil’s jaw, featherlight as he laces their fingers together.

“Of course.”

The food arrives ten minutes later, with the waitress giving Dan a small smile as he thanks her. In hindsight they should’ve shared, with one stack certainly too large for simply one of them but neither could care less, because their kisses taste of berries and buttermilk cream, and the vanilla milkshakes Dan decides to order after their plates are licked clean.

“Were the milkshakes necessary?” Phil chuckles.

“Of course, you can’t have pancakes without a milkshake.”

“That is very true, and they were all delicious - thank you.” He grins, placing his palm on Dan’s thigh.

“Thank you for last night, it means a lot.”

At twelve-thirty they walk out of the café, hand in hand with shy glances never few and far between. It’s cold, prompting Phil to turn on the heating when they reach his flat.

“You can stay.” He says as Dan turns to leave. “Only if you’d like to that is.”

“I’d love to.” He kicks off his shoes and joins Phil on the sofa, draping his arm around his stomach before resting his head on his shoulder. It’s quiet, with their breaths matching and the T.V humming softly in the background, and perhaps if the rain weren’t so heavy they’d fall asleep wrapped in cotton blankets and each other’s arms.

-

“I really appreciate this.” Phil’s not sure if he can fall harder for Dan.

“It’s okay, you’ve gone through a lot.” He smiles, tucking a strand of chestnut hair behind Dan’s ear. He drapes his jacket over Dan’s shoulders, shifting his weight from his elbow to lay down on the blanket he sprawled out beneath them.   
“I know how much you love the stars.”

“I never thought I’d say this, but I really don’t think I can love them as much as I love you.” His lips feather over Phil’s, moving to the soft rhythm of their fluttering hearts.

“You love me?” Phil’s breathless as his gaze meets Dan’s.

“I really do.”

“I love you too Dan.”

Dan decides it’s not too cold wrapped in Phil’s arms as they stare at the stars, and although Phil can’t tell Orion from Sirius, Dan couldn’t care less. The night’s spent kissing under the stars, staggering back to Phil’s intoxicated by each other’s lips and the bruises forming on their necks and jaws in purple nebulae that Dan can’t help but feel are beautiful.

Phil pours Dan a gin, topped with tonic and lemon and a kiss that could send him to Venus and back, touching each star along the way as galaxies grace his fingertips. It’s passionate and loving and unlike any other Dan’s experienced, tasting sour and bitter and deliciously sweet.

“I love you.” It’s mumbled as Dan’s thighs are either side of Phil’s, fingers tangling the ends of hair and noses brushing.

“I love you too.” They’re breathless, and it’s as if each time their lips meet flowers bloom and every star in the sky shines that little brighter. Dan presses his thumb to each bruise on Phil’s neck; a blackhole against the whitest rose, soothing the pain with the flick of his tongue before peppering kisses along his jaw to his lips.

-

“Can you meet me in the library after your lecture?” Dan asks as he presses a soft kiss to Phil’s cheek, wrapped up in daisy-white cotton sheets.

“Of course, I’ll bring you a coffee?” The brunet hums a response, gripping Phil’s waist a little tighter before tracing his fingers over his chest and stomach. “That tickles y'know.” Phil smiles, bringing his hand to cup Dan’s cheek before reaching down to give him a gentle kiss.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise.”

It’s one-forty-six when Phil sits next to Dan on a red cushioned chair in the corner of the library.

“Here’s your coffee.” Phil hands it to him, placing a small kiss on his cheek as he does so.

“Thank you.” He receives it with a smile, placing his notebook on the table in front before leaning into Phil.   
“How was the lecture?” It’s small talk and both know it won’t equate to much, but Phil can’t help sense Dan’s tense, and the way his eyes close and he buries his face in Phil’s chest certainly doesn’t go unnoticed.

“What’s wrong my love?” The name seems at ease upon Phil’s lips, tasting of candy floss and the sweetest berries.

“M'nothing.”

“Dan, please tell me.” He runs his fingers through his hair, pushing back his fringe before letting his hands rest on his crossed arms.

“Chris’ in here.” He whispers, so soft Phil could quite easily have mistaken it for a passing gust of wind if they weren’t confined to the four sandstone walls of the library.   
Phil nods, holding Dan a little tighter as the brunet sighs.   
“If he sees us-”

“I’ll deal with him.” Phil hushes, asking Dan to pass him his coffee before taking a sip, deciding it is far too hot as it burns his tongue.

“Dan?” Chris’ voice is hoarse. “What the fuck is his?” Each word is spat with furrowed brows. “Is he who you meant? Or is this some fucking joke?!”

“Chris I-” Dan begins, eyes brimming with tears that Phil’s quick to wipe away.

“Chris I think you should leave us.” Phil’s stern, eyes narrowed and piercing and Dan hasn’t ever seen him quite like this.

“He said he didn’t love me, and you think he fucking loves you? You barely know him!” Chris scoffs, wiping away a tear with his sleeve.

“I know he does.” And with that Chris walks away, leaving nothing but an empty sweet wrapper behind and Dan doesn’t have the heart to tell him to pick it up. He doesn’t have the heart to run after him and explain because what is there to explain? What is else is there to say when all has been said?

“Come on.” Phil wriggles out from under Dan, handing him his things before taking his coffee and Dan’s hand. “Come back to mine, we can watch some shitty movie and I’ll make some popcorn.” Dan nods, placing his notebooks and pencil case in his bag before swinging it over his shoulder, lacing his fingers with Phil’s before they head out of the doors.

“I’m sorry you had to suffer that.” Dan sniffles, wiping his tears with the back of his hand.

“Don’t apologise, it’s not your fault at all.” He rests his head on Phil’s shoulder as they walk on the footpath, rain soft around them.

“Your hair is going curly.” Phil smiles, earning a pout from Dan. “It looks cute, you look like a hobbit.” Dan can’t help but let a giggle slip past his lips. “I love you,” Phil whispers, lips brushing Dan’s ear. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

“You can choose whatever you’d like to watch.” Phil opens his flat door for Dan, passing him the towel on his coat hanger to dry his hair.

“I can legally acquire anything Phillip, any requests?” His eyes are soft and Phil just wants to kiss his dimples.

“Could you perhaps legally acquire the new Star Wars movie?” Phil giggles, fingers dancing to tickle Dan’s sides before he wraps his arms around his waist and hugs him from behind.

“Of course I can.” Phil notices Dan’s cheeks flush rose, like every carnation in bloom in the Spring and pink cherry blossom he desires.

-

Phil marks off two months, a month since he and Dan first kissed and sat under the stars, holding hands as he braided flowers into Dan’s hair.

“Morning.” Dan could count the nights he’s slept without Phil on his fingers and toes. More often than not are his arms wrapped around his waist as dreams flicker behind his eyelids.

“Morning to you too.” Phil smiles, kissing his cheek before throwing back the covers, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “I’ll be back in a second.”  
It’s not long before Phil comes back, holding a silver tray of waffles and maple syrup, oranges and berries and a cup of tea.

“And this is for?” Dan giggles, placing two pillows behind him to prop himself up.

“One month together.” He places the tray on the table beside Dan, pushing back his fringe before gently kissing Dan’s lips.

“This is actually amazing, did you make it?” Dan mumbles after taking a bite, Phil flushing bright red as he nods. “God you’re perfect.” He moves the tray in between them, handing Phil his fork because he can’t possibly eat the whole thing, despite how delicious it is.

They mark off three months, then four, and then five; celebrating each with rose petals sprawled on tables and vanilla scented candles lining the bath.

“You’re too good,” Dan mumbles, a glass on cheap champagne precarious between his fingers as he picks a petal out of the water. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too my love.” Phil pushes Dan’s fringe back, placing both their glasses on the side before he presses their lips softly together. Their tongues taste of wine and raspberries, and Dan can’t help but chuckle at Phil’s song choices.

“I’d never have thought you’d be into this.” Dan giggles against his lips.

“Is Radiohead not romantic?”

“I admit I do love them but I’m not sure if Creep is the right song for this situation.” Dan reaches for Phil’s phone with the remnants of a chuckle laced on his lips, and with a few taps he changes the song.

It’s on their sixth that Phil decides there’s nothing better than watching a movie, eating pizza on the sofa with the one who sends butterflies in your stomach and your heart racing.

“What do you want to watch?” Dan places two glasses on the oak coffee table.

“Whatever you’d like my love.” Phil sits on the sofa, letting Dan rest his head on his chest as he drapes a blanket over their legs. They settle on a Studio Ghibli film, two slices of pizza left in the box as their kisses taste of wine.

They say sober minds restrict you, and that alcohol breaks that barrier.

“Philly,” Dan starts, pressing the palms of their hands together. “You’re so pretty.”

“You’re pretty too Danny.”

“I think you’re the prettiest boy in the universe.” The brunet giggles, peppering kisses along Phil’s jaw.

“You’re much prettier, so pretty that all I want to do is kiss you.” Phil manages before their lips collide, tongues slipping in mouths and fingers tugging threads of hair. Phil would be lying if he didn’t think Dan’s soft moans were beautiful, and each whimper as his lips trail to leave marks on his neck cause his cheeks to flush bright crimson.

“Ph-Phil.”

“Yes Danny?” He breathes, lips brushing against his neck as the words leave his tongue. Dan doesn’t respond with words, instead his fingers lace with Phil’s as he pushes the blanket off them both, straddling Phil before grinding down on him softly.

“You can’t kiss my neck without consequences.” Dan whispers into Phil’s ear, smiling as Phil untangles their fingers and slips his hands under his shirt, soothing patterns along his back and waist before feathering over his chest. They stay like that, shamelessly grinding and kissing until they’re breathless, discarding t-shirts on the floor and soothing bruises on necks and chests with the pads of fingers until the sun peaks behind the clouds in streaks of gold and amber and the stars vanish into nothing.

Dan doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone as beautiful as Phil, and Phil isn’t sure if he’ll ever meet another who sends his heart racing quite like Dan does.

-

Afternoons are spent in the gardens, watching the butterflies in Spring as the frost melts from the tips of their noses. Dan strings fairy lights around his room, making sure the stars are never far away even if the clouds blanket the sky and the rain hammers down on the window. They wake up in each other’s arms after kisses tasting of the cheapest gin or the sweetest Asti they can find from the nights prior. Lectures become few and far between, and Phil’s certain Dan misses a week altogether but it all seems insignificant when they’re with each other; as if nothing can separate them.

Phil never thought his favourite sound would be that of another voice, and after months of nights together he still can’t fathom Dan curled up in his arms.

Dan says his favourite place is the rose gardens by the university, and he can’t help but hold Phil’s hand as he picks a flower and tucks it behind his ear, emerald leaves embedded in his curls. He says he loves the coffee shop dates, and despite it’s cliché he loves the way Phil’s smile grows wide as the word boyfriend effortlessly tumbles from his lips.

“Here,” Dan hands Phil a red rose as the Spring turns to Summer. “It’s for you.” He wastes no time in placing it in a jar upon his windowsill.

“Thank you.” It’s a sweet kiss as their fingers lace, lips pressing to noses and cheeks before they both flush crimson. “I never thought I’d fall in love this hard, or want to spend my whole life kissing you.” Phil admits, and Dan could quite agree.

-

“Dan?” Phil’s fingers feather under his chin, thumbs wiping away the tears that tumble down his cheeks. “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing.” His voice wavers, soft and fragile and it shatters Phil’s heart.

“Dan please tell me.” Phil sits beside him, letting the brunet bury his face in his chest.

“I’m not good enough for you Phil. You deserve the world and I can’t give you that.”

“Dan you’re my world, you make me the happiest person alive - you’re more than enough.” He presses a kiss to his forehead, pushing back his fringe with the tips of his fingers. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

Dan says he’s busy, saying he can’t stay much longer before his eyes flutter shut. His kisses become timid, short and sharp before pulling away. Phil thinks he could count the number of times Dan falls asleep in his arms with the fourteen crayons on the table beside his bed and the number of nights he’s spent alone in the stars in the sky. He thinks Dan’s eyes are blackholes and perhaps he’s been pulled in too far, unable to untangle himself from what he’s created. Dan’s his first love, like the first bud on a flower and the most beautiful, but only time will tell exactly how beautiful it’ll be against the rest. Dan storms out one night with tears pricking his eyes and Phil’s left in the road with rain-trodden socks and a shaky breath, repeating Dan’s name like a broken record player.

“See that star?” Phil points to the seemingly brightest star in the sky. “It’s yours.” He hopes he can mend what’s broken; the hope they’ve both lost.

“You can’t just give me a star.” Dan giggles, throwing his head back as a smile graces his lips.

“I just did.”

“I think we should end it.” Phil can barely recognise Dan’s voice through his phone.

“Okay.” He says simply, out of fear his voice will break and the tears that brim his eyes will choke sobs at the back of his throat.

“I love you Phil, don’t forget that.” Dan hangs up a second after, and any chance of question is shattered. Phil knows it’s not his fault yet the heartache isn’t any less and he finds himself curled up in tear-soaked sheets with a pounding head, just waiting for the whimpers to subside.

They lasted seven months, and Phil can’t bring himself to go to his seminars for the rest of the week. Instead he turns his phone off, unashamed of sleepless nights and days spent bent over because he can’t breathe through his tears. He finds comfort in the stars, watching the clouds slowly move past as the moon shines above and it’s as if time itself has stopped.

Phil doesn’t think he can take the wilted rose out of the jar on his windowsill, and each night he finds himself staring up at the stars - wondering if perhaps Dan is staring at them too. The leaves are tinted nostalgic brown as it’s thorns curl, the edges of the leaves seemingly dipped in coffee, stained and torn much like Phil’s heart. His picture is still on his cork board, a red heart with cursive Dan in the centre, and no matter how hard he tries he can never seem to tear his eyes away from the way Dan looks so utterly perfect. He wonders if Dan looks up at night and sees his star, memories of nights tangled in white sheets under the milky way and every other galaxy in the sky. He wonders if Dan’s mind paints the same picture Phil’s does, in honeyed yellows and ochres like the sunflowers in his mother’s garden on a lazy summer’s afternoon.

Phil learns heartache lasts until the last star fades in the Autumn, as the trees turn amber and tumble to the ground in golden nothings. He learns love ends with torture, an unbearable pain in which you’re left to pick yourself up and carry on. He never texts Dan, never asks why and never talks to him, because he moved on long ago. Dan moved on when the Spring turned to Summer, and left Phil with the remnants of heartbreak woven in the petals of a red rose. Phil thinks if he were to see Dan once more he’d spare the questions, instead he’d hold him tight and wish him well, because he could never forget his first love even if it means chasing the stars to do so.


End file.
